


birdhouse

by lyricallyharley



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Moving, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:46:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23208715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyricallyharley/pseuds/lyricallyharley
Summary: After a stressful move, Phil wants to make a forever home for someone else.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31
Collections: phandomficfests: escape from reality





	birdhouse

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time writing anything in months please be nice

I wasn’t sure where you were when I woke up this morning.

Apparently you couldn’t sleep, I noticed you had been wide awake last night. You said you were stressed from the move and needed a distraction. I didn’t think anything of it.

My mind was hazy when I went downstairs and the light bleeding through the blinds on the windows reminded me of all the times you told me you wanted big windows in your dream home. How you wanted to be able to look out and see nothing but nature. You stood here staring out this very window, smiling for what seemed like forever. It was then I knew that this was the house.

I see you’ve left a note on the fridge. A vague one at that. ‘Gone out, I have a surprise :)’ What’s that supposed to mean? I wake up expecting to cuddle you under the warmth of our brand new bedsheets and stay there until your skin glows under the sun of the golden hour, then we would actually get up and do something, but now all I know is that you’ve gone out.

Where have you gone, Phil? I’m eating breakfast alone in our forever home, mind aching with anticipation, trying to decipher what the hell you note means.

It’s been a few hours now, and I haven’t done much today. There are still boxes that need to be unpacked and bare white walls just begging to be decorated. But I wanted to do that with you. I have no motivation to do it alone.

I finally hear the front door open. I jump up and run to you, because I already know that it’s you. 

I hug you after you set down your bags because, damn it, I missed you. I breathe those words into your neck where it’s warm and familiar. Your skin is always so soft to me, no matter where you’ve been or what you’re doing I can’t help but rest my head against any and every part of you.

You make some joke about me being clingy and we laugh. We can joke about it because I’m not ashamed of being in love with you. 

I help you with your bags. It’s mostly groceries, but I can’t help but notice one is not like the others. I ask you where you went and you just giggle and tell me, “It’s a surprise.”

I can’t stop my face from growing warm. You’re so cute when you laugh like that. 

My eyes find the suspicious bag so I reach for it, but you’re quick to block my path. You wrap your arms around me and squeeze tightly. 

“Let me see!” I squeal. “What’s the surprise?”

You don’t. You hug me against you until I’m looking at you. Your eyes are so bright when you smile, it’s infectious. It almost makes me want to kiss-

You’re kissing me. I don’t know why but I’m not complaining. I don’t let you stop before I kiss you back gently, with enough emotion so that it seeps through from between my lips and speaks without using words. 

You pull away slowly, brushing your soft lips against my cheek, and then my nose as you go. 

“Missed you to, idiot.” You quip. “Do you want to see your surprise now?”

I nod as you reach for the bag and open it, revealing something I was not expecting.

You pull out a few packs of paintbrushes, a wide selection of acrylic paints, and a box with a picture of a birdhouse on it.

“What’s this?” I ask

“I know it’s dumb.” You tell me. “I just figured we could take a break from all the moving madness and do something relaxing, don’t you think?”

I stare at the box with the stupidest smile on my face. I think about how perfect this would be for the garden you always talked about starting, or how relaxing it would be to wake up to any birds other than pigeons every morning. To stand by the window and watch them eat, or drink from a bath. It’s such a beautiful image.

“Dan?” You place your hand on my shoulder. “What are you thinking?”

“I think-”

I turn to face you and see that you’re biting your lip. You always do that when you’re nervous. I reach up to gently ease your bottom lip from between your teeth and you let me, visibly calming down as soon as I touch you. 

“I think it’s a lovely idea, Phil.”

I stroke your cheek. Your skin is warm. I move my hand so that my fingers are gripping your cheek, and I lean over and press my lips against your blushing face.

"Really?" You ask me. 

I tear the plastic from the box and open it.

"Yes." I assure you. "And you want to know what else I think?"

You nod. I smile as we go through the contents of the box together, separating and organizing all of the parts to the birdhouse. You stand behind me with your arms secured at my waist, and I can feel your slow breaths on the back of my neck.

"What do you think, Dan?" You ask again.

I turn around and run my hands over your arms. I press my lips to yours once, and then again, and then a third time because screw it, I'm addicted to you. 

"I think," I mumble in between slow, drawn out kisses, kisses. "I'm looking forward to spending the rest of our lives here."

"Me too." You agree, sighing and pressing your head against mine. "But if you draw a penis on the house I'm getting a divorce."

"Ah damn it, what's the point then." I joke. You laugh. I love making you laugh, Phil. When I see you happy it makes me feel the same.

You press a final kiss to my nose before walking towards the sink to get a cup of water for the paint. I watch you as you do this. I always watch you as you do mundane things, evening you don't realize it. How your stance is always a bit awkward, especially if you're tired. How you sway and shift your weight from side to side when you're waiting for something. How you have a habit of adjusting your glasses, messing with your hair, or bunching up your shirt when you're thinking about something. 

I watch you all the time, and when I do there's always one thought on my mind.

I am going to marry you one day.


End file.
